


keep my flame burning

by silakbo



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Family, Fluff, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Yuuri has anxiety, a mess, after 1-2 years, but its not heavily touched upon, but its there, first time writing fic, its not much, not proofread, sort of open ending, this is a word vomit tbh, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 10:17:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11205999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silakbo/pseuds/silakbo
Summary: Yuuri doesn't know where he would be now if all the people he loves aren't in his life, and he doesn't want to find out.: A look into Yuuri's relationship with his friends and family after the loss of ice skating in his life, and their role in his journey to success.(Second part of the fic series with YuriPirozhki and totaldislocation)





	keep my flame burning

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! this is the second part of a fic series by me, YuriPirozhki, and totaldislocation. please do read YuriPirozhki's part first to understand the context of my fic. this is also a part of the yoi collab game by @motherofcakes in twitter!! please check the works out at @yoicollabs

It's a hot day in Hasetsu, where the residents would rather spend their time indoors to shield themselves from the harsh rays of the sun. Yuuri, in particular, is currently in his room, trying to develop some designs that is actually workable and pleasing. Yuuri is frustrated beyond belief, the soft whir of his electric fan and the instrumentals from the routines he’s watching only serves to aggravate him more. He's been watching Viktor Nikiforov's short programs and free skates since morning in hopes of actually sketching out something decent. The Russian icon has always been able to inspire Yuuri with his routines but this time, there is nothing.  
  
The most Yuuri has drawn are bare skeletons of recycled designs. Papers filled with blank-faced skaters in pencilled silks and glitter litter his desk, all in varying degrees of completion. Tapping his pencil to the rhythm of Viktor Nikiforov's fourth Worlds short program, Yuuri zones out for the second time in thirty minutes. God, he's so tired and his brain is-  
  
A knock on his door forces him out of his thoughts, and Yuuri scrambles to fix his desk into some semblance of cleanliness. He throws his drawing tools in his mug container, sweeps the eraser shavings to the trash can, and rights the poodle plushie he knocked askew in his haste.  
  
"Who is it?!" Yuuri shouts as he tries to gather his unfinished designs in one haphazard pile.  
  
"Your sister," Mari's head pops in, lips lacking a cigarette and adorning a small smile. "Who is here to fetch you for lunch."  
  
Yuuri slumps on his chair and the papers rest limply on his slack fingers. He weakly answers a glance and a smile to his sister, who approaches Yuuri's warzone. He watches her eyes appraise his form that he knows is quite the sight for sore eyes. Disheveled hair from running his hands countless of times through it, askew glasses from burying his face into his hands in frustration.  
  
"How's the project going?" Mari asks while picking up messy pile of sketches in Yuuri's hands and sifting through it. She glances back to her brother's rumpled form and continues, "Not going too well?"  
  
It's an invitation to release his frustrations and Yuuri takes it with two hands in immense relief. "Not going too well is an understatement, nee-san. Nothing I make is enough, and I need this by next week!"  
  
Mari watches as her brother slumps over his wooden table with a groan, not sympathizing with his frustration and desperation. She glances back to the sketches in her hands with a frown, and throws it back on the table. It misses Yuuri’s head by mere centimeters, and she rolls her eyes when all Yuuri does is whine and bury his face in his arms.

 

“Up, up, come on!” Mari grabs her brother by the shoulders and forces him into a sitting position. She fusses with a confused Yuuri’s messy hair and rumpled clothes, and squeezes his chubby cheeks. “Okay, here’s what you’re going to do. You will eat your lunch, play with Vicchan in the park after or something.”

 

Yuuri moves to protest but Mari just tightens her hold on his cheeks and peers into his eyes with all the seriousness she can muster. It’s hard to stop her laughter when her brother looks like a squished marshmallow, after all. “You will  _ not  _ work on this for the rest of the day, and you  _ will  _ relax. Understood?”

 

Yuuri meekly nods and Mari lets him go with a pat on his reddened cheek. With a laugh and a gentle smile, she walks out of her brother’s room at a leisure pace and impatiently gestures Yuuri to follow her. Yuuri takes a minute to stare at Mari’s retreating back, wondering what exactly did he do to deserve a sister like her.

 

Mari’s presence has always been a constant in his life. One of his earliest memories is Mari taking him to Hasetsu Ice Castle, and indulging him with his childish wonder. She was there when he got his first ice skates, when he first attempted a jump, his first competition. She helped Yuuri pick himself up after his injury, helped him find his way and purpose in life after he lost ice skating, and Yuuri honestly doesn’t know where he would be without her.

 

“Yuuri, stop zoning out. I’m hungry!” Mari’s voice from down the hallway knocks Yuuri out of his stupor and he hurriedly follows. He wouldn’t trade Mari for the world, even if she is at her most frustrating.

 

* * *

 

Upon finishing their lunch, Yuuri took it upon himself to wash the dishes with Vicchan bounding at his heels. He scrubs the bowls and utensils to remove the bits and pieces of grease and food, and carefully rinses off the soap. By the time Yuuri is wiping down the suds on the sink, Vicchan is already impatiently tugging at his shirt.

 

“Vicchan, stop!” Yuuri shouts as he nearly topples over from the force of the tug. Mari rushes in with alarm all over her face, and quickly surveys the scene.

 

Yuuri is holding a sopping wet rug, glasses at the tip of his nose, and Vicchan sitting on the floor looking chastised. Mari takes note of how Yuuri’s eyes quickly soften at the sight of the morose poodle, and decides that her brother has stayed long enough inside the house.

 

“Go on, Yuuri, I’ll finish this up. Vicchan has been dying to get out of the house.” She snatches the rug out of Yuuri’s hands, and gave Vicchan a soft scratch behind the ears.

 

Yuuri frowns at that, and turns around with a question at the tip of his tongue. But before he could even open his mouth, Mari hits his head and said, “He only wanted to walk with you, idiot.”

 

With a blush adorning his ears and cheeks, a flustered Yuuri hastily makes his exit and an excited Vicchan bounds after his heels. Mari watches on with fondness and adoration, shaking her head at her brother speed walking as if he can run away from the embarrassment.

 

“Don’t forget your umbrella and the leash!” Mari shouts when she hears the front door opening.

 

“Right, yeah, thank you, nee-san! I’ll be going now.” And with that Yuuri and Vicchan are gone.

 

* * *

 

Upon stepping out of the house, Yuuri immediately latches the leash’s hook onto the loop in Vicchan’s collar. He opens the umbrella to block out the harsh heat and sets out a moderate pace for him and his poodle, a pace that wouldn’t tire them both quickly.

Despite the heat and humidity, Yuuri finds himself silently thanking Mari for forcing him out of the house. It’s true that he has been cooped up inside the house for about two days now, trying to add up to the portfolio that would get him into an exchange program in his university. It’s a personal project of Yuuri’s, something that would allow him to achieve his original dreams despite it being slightly different.

He always dreamed to travel around the world while doing what he loves. Back then, it was ice skating. Yuuri had envisioned himself countless of times travelling from country to country for competitions. His passport would be filled up with stamps from Spain, Russia, USA, and so many more countries. He would be witnessing and experiencing so many sights and cultures through ice skating, but now it’s no more. Ever since Yuuri received his injury, his daydreams of obtaining gold- or any sort of medal- in ice skating competitions have been torn painfully out of his grasp. When before, the dream was only a few more leaps away, it’s now up in the sky and Yuuri has lost his wings to get there.

So he turned to costume designing and by extension, fashion design and the art of sketching and painting. He learned how to put the graceful movements of ice skaters onto paper using watercolor and charcoal. He plucks the costumes he dreamed himself wearing out of his mind, and transfers it all onto the body of faceless skaters he sketched. Yuuri made use of the old sewing machine they have stored away and practiced day and night to achieve straight and sturdy stitches.

Costume designing started as a way to cope with the loss of ice skating in his life, to fill in the gaps that it left. Then slowly, over the years, it became a passion in Yuuri’s life. Seeing the output of all his hardwork and sleepless nights be used for a routine in a huge competition brought immense pride and joy to him. Yuuri believes he would never be able to fully thank Yuuko for being the first to give him that feeling.

Vicchan’s enthusiastic barks drags Yuuri out of his reminiscing. Vicchan is incessantly tugging him forward and Yuuri realizes that he had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Glancing around, he is shocked to discover that while he had been stuck inside his memories, Yuuri and Vicchan already arrived at the front of the town park.

“Alright, alright, calm down, Vicchan!” Yuuri bends with a chuckle to unhook the leash and once he was free, the poodle leaps towards the water sprinklers.

“Hey, Yuuri!” He turns around, looking for the person who called him. Yuuri spots Minako on the other side of the sidewalk, waving cheerfully and making her way towards his side. Yuuri waves back less enthusiastically but he is as happy as his former ballet teacher that they are able to see each other again after a few days.

“Minako-sensei, good afternoon.” Yuuri lets his small smile grow to a wider one upon receiving a hug from the joyous female. He lets himself move to the force of Minako’s hug, when suddenly there’s a sharp pain erupting from his cheek. “Ow, ow, ow, Minako-sensei, please stop pulling!”

“That’s what you get for doing a disappearing act on me!” Minako harrumphs and continues to squeeze Yuuri’s cheeks until it turns red. Yuuri whines from the sting of the pinch until Minako releases his cheeks with a laugh. “How’s your portfolio going?”

 

Sighing, Yuuri makes his way to a shaded bench where he can get a full view of Vicchan playing with the sprinklers and sits down with a weary grace. He sets the closed umbrella and leash on the grass next to the bench, careful not to damage any of it. Minako follows him, worried for her former student, and sits next to him with more care.

 

“Do you… do you ever just find yourself stuck, not being able to create something?” Yuuri admits, eyes taking a glance at Minako’s pensive face then back to tracking Vicchan’s movements. His hands grab the dog leash and wrings it in apprehension, nervous for Minako’s answer.

 

“Always have.” Minako whispers, whose eyes are also following the poodle. “It’s not something that ever goes away, not in our kind of work. Why do you ask, Yuuri?”

 

The designer takes a few seconds to gather his ideas, head lowering in thought. Minako has turned to him and is patiently waiting for Yuuri to pick up the conversation. She knows Yuuri needs to get this off his chest; the anxiety and the fear. It’s the only way they- Mari, Yuuko and his parents- can be sure that Yuuri isn’t holing himself up in his room, slaving over design after design. There are better ways to cope and Minako and the others are here to provide that for him.

 

“I’m scared. I’m scared that I’ll lose my passion for design.” Yuuri whispers to the air, hands twisting the leash again. Minako nods in understand and moves to take the leash away from Yuuri’s hands, scared that he’ll give himself an abrasion from its rough texture. “Scared that I won’t be able to achieve the other dreams I have. I’m just… scared.”

 

Minako studies Yuuri’s face, waiting. Yuuri doesn’t say anything more and keeps his blank eyes trained forward, not looking anywhere else. The ballet dancer leans back and appraises the emotions flickering through her former student’s face- or what she could see of it.

 

“It doesn’t get any easier, I’ll be honest.” Minako sighs, remembering the times her younger self suffered from doubt and fear. “There will always be something new to be scared of, but it shouldn’t stop us from achieving our dreams.”

 

Yuuri still doesn’t say anything else, so she continues, “If we let fear and insecurity rule our lives, we’ll just end up less happier than we could have been. Our happiness is our main priority in life, Yuuri. If we don’t prioritize ourselves, then how are we supposed to help others in ways we can?”

 

A frown creases Yuuri’s face and he sent a questioning glance to his former ballet teacher. “...What are you saying, Minako-sensei?”

 

“I’m saying, don’t be scared of fear. It’ll always be there and you just gotta fight it. Don’t try and convince yourself that you’re not scared of anything because news flash, fearing something is natural.” Minako stands up and stretches her torso from side to side. Yuuri’s face grew pensive and thoughtful, mulling over the words they exchanged over the past hour.

 

Then suddenly, Minako delivers several hard pats on Yuuri’s back. “Now, how about we go back to the onsen and we get some snacks, ey?” She practically shouts and, without waiting for Yuuri’s answer, calls over Vicchan with a wave. The dog leash still in her hand waves around, and Yuuri has to avoid getting hit.

 

With that, the heavy feeling that lingers in Yuuri’s chest is dispelled and he watches fondly as Minako tries to hook the leash without trying to get wet. Yuuri laughs, feeling lighter than he had in days. The ballet dancer let out a shout of triumph when she succeeds, and Yuuri stands at that. He grabs the umbrella from the grass, opens it, and starts following Vicchan and Minako back to the onsen.

 

He observes the two from where he is trailing after, a fond smile adorning his lips. Yuuri quickly jogs up to them and with a tap on Minako’s shoulder, he says,

 

“Thank you for everything, sensei.”

 

Minako just pulls him in for a headlock and a head ruffle and Yuuri laughs, content with the knowledge that no matter what happens, he’ll always have her support.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri is at Hasetsu Ice Castle again with his sketchpad and pencils. He’s been kicked out of the house again by Mari, saying he should take his mind off the exchange program results. Relax, she said. Yuuri is trying, honestly, but it’s hard to keep his hands from shaking when the only thing that is stopping him from getting this opportunity is an email confirmation from his university. He has sent the application, his portfolio and all that is left is to wait.

 

Yuuri sighs as he watches Yuuko glide in circles, pencil lazily sketching her anatomy using circles and boxes. His hands are getting sweaty and his heart is beating too fast. God, what if he doesn’t get accepted? Yuuri has so many dreams, so many wishes he wants to achieve and he hopes this program would be the start of it.

 

By the time Yuuko is done with her cool down routine, Yuuri has abandoned his art materials and started pacing across the spectator seats. Yuuko skates out of the rink, puts on her skate guards, and plods to where Yuuri stands.

 

“When should the email arrive?” Yuuko asks while removing her skates. Yuuri tightens his grip onto his phone, and he jumps up and down to shake off the nerves.

 

“Anytime now, I’m so nervous, Yuuko-” Yuuri’s phone chimed and Yuuko rushes to stand next to Yuuri despite the blisters on her unsocked feet.

 

Flashing across the screen is a notification about an email received a mere seconds ago. ‘Confirmation about Exchange Program to Detroit,’ says the headline. Apprehension and anticipation take over Yuuri’s countenance and his fingers are shaking so hard, he enters the wrong password thrice.

 

“Here, let me put it in for you.” Yuuko takes his phone with much more steady hands. She quickly reads the email, eyes growing wider at each sentence she sees.

 

“What? What is it? Is it bad? Did I pass-” Yuuri is interrupted by Yuuko shoving his phone to him and she whispers,

 

“You got accepted.” Yuuri stills at that, silence filling the gap between the two of them. Yuuko gestures him to read and he does, slowly lowering his head to the phone held loosely in his hand.

 

Yuuri reads the email again and again and again in wonder, but one line sticks to his mind like a mantra.  _ ‘Katsuki-san, congratulations on getting accepted to the exchange program to Detroit, USA.’ _

 

Distantly, he hears Yuuko call for Takeshi. Her loud voice interrupts the other skaters and echoes throughout the nearly empty place, but Yuuri is numb to everything except that phrase. The Nishigoris wastes no time dragging him out of the rink and to the onsen to deliver the news, plans of a celebratory party building in their minds.

 

His dreams are one step closer, he can almost feel it within his grasp, and Yuuri has never been happier.

 

* * *

 

Weeks of preparation has come to this; Yuuri with his luggage and a smile spread wide, his family and friends gathering around and tears in their eyes. It’s only a few minutes before Yuuri has to leave for the airport, the train going to the city due to arrive soon.

 

“You’ll take care of yourself, right?” Hiroko chastises him, busying herself with straightening and fixing Yuuri’s hair and clothes even if he looked impeccable already.

 

“Mom, I will, I will.” Yuuri laughs and draws his mother into a hug. He tries to imprint the feeling of his mother’s love because it would be months before he’ll be able to feel it again.

 

“Yuuri, the train is here!” His father calls and Yuuri gives his mother one last kiss to the cheek, and he’s off to the train.

 

Before he can board though, Toshiya claps a hand onto Yuuri’s shoulder and says, “Be careful out there, Yuuri. We’re just one call away, remember that.”

 

Yuuri just nods, tears springing from his eyes. He leans down and gives his father a hug, and then he boards the train enroute to the city. Yuuri will miss them, will miss his home, but for him to live without regrets, he has to do this. Yuuri will have to be strong and sure because every obstacle life will throw at him will only get harder from now on.

 

* * *

 

Detroit is different from Hasetsu. It’s loud and noisy and wow, Yuuri did not think this through. He’s a foreign man in a land he has never been in and Yuuri has never felt more lost than he has been before. He feels the familiar clench of anxiety wound around his heart and it’s getting harder to think straight. Tears spring up in his eyes and  _ Yuuri did not think this through _ .

 

“Hello, my name is Phichit Chulanont!” A man cheerfully greets him and Yuuri is startled out of his emotions. The firm clamp his anxiety has on his heart is still there but it loosens when he hears the accent wrapped around the English words. This man is a foreign man too.

 

“K-Katsuki Yuuri. My name is Katsuki Yuuri.” Yuuri belatedly realizes he should’ve said his name the other way around- he’s not in Japan anymore- but Phichit just beams and hugs him.

 

“You’re my new roommate!” Phichit squeals in happiness, phone suddenly on hand with the camera app open. “Can we take a picture together, Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri just nods with a soft smile and thinks, him and Phichit will get along well. They’re two foreign men in land full of unfamiliar customs and people, but Yuuri knows they’ll be each other’s pillar of support.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri is once more hunched over a design he has been stuck on for days now. He runs his hands through his hair, his table a mess of papers and pencil. He squints at the sketched skater, and sighs in frustration. Then suddenly, he hears the click of a camera app and Yuuri spins around to glance at Phichit. Phichit, who has his phone camera pointed to Yuuri and is snapping away.

 

“Phichit, what are you doing?” Yuuri asks once his roommate stops clicking away. Phichit sets his phone on his bed and flops over the blankets and pillows.

 

“It’s for your Instagram account.” Phichit’s muffled answer came and he stole a glance at Yuuri’s questioning face.

 

Yuuri tilts his head in askance and wonders, “Why would I need an Instagram account?”

 

Phichit gasps and throws a hand over his chest as if Yuuri had done a great fashion faux pas. “ _ Because  _ your designs needs to be seen by the world! Also, it’s the least I could when  _ you  _ take videos and pictures of me during my skate practices.”

 

That got Yuuri to thinking. He could build a huge online presence to further extend his reach. His designs will reach a larger audience and thus, more chance of people commissioning him. While Yuuri is not savvy in social media, he can always ask help from Phichit, who knows an account in every social media site there is.

 

“That’s… not a bad idea actually.” Phichit leaps from his bed with a squeal and hugs Yuuri tight around his chubby torso.

 

“I’ll get your account started already!” Yuuri smiles from his chair as he watches Phichit ask him questions for the sign-up form.

 

He wonders where he would be now if Phichit, bright and creative Phichit, wasn’t there for him since the beginning of his time in Detroit. Yuuri would do everything in his power to keep Phichit in his life because Phichit is the breath of fresh air after a particularly smoky day.

 

* * *

 

“Would you ever design and make an ice skating costume for me, Yuuri?” Phichit questions all of a sudden. Yuuri looks up from where he was reading a book on his bed, surprise all over his features. “I-I would pay you, of course! I would commission you, if you want.”

 

It’s been months since Yuuri and Phichit met, so Yuuri feels comfortable laughing at the panic on Phichit’s face when he clarified his request. Phichit buries his face in embarrassment and turns his back to Yuuri. Yuuri marks his place in the book and turns to his best friend and roommate.

 

“Of course I would make a costume for you. If you pay me.” Phichit whirls around so fast to face Yuuri that he falls off his own bed, disbelief painting over his tanned features.

 

“You  _ never  _ accept skating costume commissions!” Phichit points out, now on his knees and hands on his hips.

 

Yuuri shrugs, unable to deny the truth. He never accepts the countless skating costume commissions he receives from his Instagram followers.

 

“That’s because I don’t know them very well, so I can’t make costumes that is drawn from their entire being. But you.” Yuuri points a finger at a shocked Phichit. “I’ve seen your routine countless of times and I practically  _ live  _ with you. I can actually envision a lot of pieces that would fit you.”

 

Silence reigned their tiny room and then Phichit suddenly leaps from his bed to Yuuri’s. He engulfs Yuuri into a tight hug and whispers, “You’re an amazing friend, Yuuri.”

 

“You’re amazing too, Phichit.” Yuuri answers softly before poking Phichit’s sides where he knows the Thai skater is ticklish at. “But you have to pay me first!”

 

Phichit nods his assent in between laughs and Yuuri think, he could get used to this. His friends and family, people he holds dear to him, guiding him through the rough path of success and he wouldn’t have it any other way. If Yuuri is a star, then they’re the ones that keeps his flame going. He would burn out, snuffed like the small candle flame he is not, if they would suddenly be gone from his life, and Yuuri wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> lmao yes so that's that,,,,
> 
> tweet me @aesvthete if you wanna reach me, my friends


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